In 2004 I heard Angela Hewitt play Couperin's "Mysterious Barricades" on the radio. It reminds me of Handel's "Harmonious Blacksmith," or maybe just the connotations of the title — a quiet, joyful pleasure in work. Now I have all three of her CDs of Couperin's "Ordres." Here are some of my favorites:
Les langueurs tendres
Gazoüillement
Les Bergeries
Le Ménetou
Les lis naissans
Le rossignol-en-amour
Les favètes plaintives
Le Dodo, ou l'Amour au Berceau
Le Turbulent
Le tic-toc-choc
Le Gaillard Boiteux
La Muse Plantine
L'Amphibie
La Convalescente
L'Épineuse

Aren't the titles wonderful?! Not that I understand every single word. ("Ménetou"? "Gazoüillement"?) Here are the titles of the miniatures in the 25th order: (I was going to say sketches, but they're too finished. But "miniatures" may not be right either — some of them are five minutes long.)
1. La Visionaire
2. La Misterieuse
3. La Monflambert
4. La Muse Victorieuse
5. Les Ombres Errantes

It's like wandering through a formal garden full of statues at dawn.

A-ha! I just looked up "gazouille*" on artfl. Here's the definition:
GAZOUILLER. v. n. Faire un petit bruit doux & agreable, tel que celuy que fait le cours d'un petit ruisseau sur les cailloux, ou celuy des petits oiseaux. On entend le soir les oiseaux qui gazoüillent. ce ruisseau gazoüille agreablement sur les cailloux.

How appropriate.

Here's another extraordinary set of titles, the 13th order. None of these is more than a minute long:
1. La Virginité sous le Domino couleur d'invisible
2. La Pudeur sous le Domino couleur de roze
3. L'Ardeur sous le Domino incarnat
4. L'Ésperance sous le Domino vert
5. La Fidelité sous le Domino bleu
6. La Persévérance sous le Domino gris de lin
7. La Langueur sous le Domino violet
8. La Coqueterie sous le différens Dominos
9. Les Vieux Galans et les Trésorieres Suranées sous des Dominos pourpres et feuilles mortes
10. Les Coucous Bénévoles sous des Domino jaunes
11. La Jalousie Taciturne sous le Domino gris de maure
12. La Frénésie, ou le Désespoir sous le Domino noir

He can be as warm, confident, calm and expansive as Handel, in "Mysterious Barricades" and also in "Le Dodo, ou l'amour au berceau," but he's Bach's match for poisonous, paralyzing bitterness. See "La Muse-Plantine" for gentle bleakness. Or he can weave together extremes, as in "La Convalescente" — fleeting consonant intervals like hints of forgiveness.

Other pieces are simply the epitome of exquiteness and delicacy. You want to hold your breath so as not to disturb the birds and flowers.

I lent these to Mark and he said, "Some of them are run of the mill, but the best ones are astonishing." I would have agreed with him when I first became acquainted with the pieces, but the more I listen the more I think, "Couperin invented his own language, and anything he says in it is fascinating."

Because of the paintings on the covers of the CDs, I thought, "This is rococo music." And then it occurred to me that Marvell is rococo poetry — not just "Picture of Little TC in a Prospect of Flowers" and "On a Drop of Dew," but practically all the lyric poems, or all the ones that treat nature as art.